Heather's Revival
by HeatherSuoh
Summary: { Sequel to Heather's Lament, which will carry Heather all the way to All Stars! } After the end of World Tour, Heather keeps a diary to help her cope with her memories and feelings. With the help of her current-BFF Sierra and her awkward niece Effie, she starts to learn that it's possible to move on. -ℋ
1. Part 1

**HEATHER'S REVIVAL  
** _SEQUEL TO "HEATHER'S LAMENT"_

* * *

 **July 30th, 2011**

Forgive the shitty handwriting - I'm on a plane.

The camping trip was about two weeks ago by now, and I've been pretty booked solid for those fourteen days. The first seven of which, Sierra was still staying with me. We spent a lot of time sorting through the hundreds of photos that were taken with the disposable cameras.

We had to thin it a bit (someone whom we suspect was Harold took at least fifteen pictures of the crook of his elbow looking like a butt crack), but there were a lot of really good ones. Sierra scanned them all individually so that she could blog them or whatever it is that she does. She complained about LeShawna having brought the disposable cameras over and over again, saying the physical copies were totally useless, but I liked them.

Now I keep them in the jewelry box I used to have my visiting-Alejandro money in. My mom keeps saying I need to tack them up on my walls, but I'm not eleven. Maybe if I get nostalgic enough I will, but for now, I feel like that's sort of where they belong.

I'm trying to think of Alejandro less than I used to. It's been kind of easy so far, with so much to occupy my mind with. This plane ride is the first time since the trip I've even had _time_ to miss him - and I don't think the fact that I _am_ on a plane is doing much to divert those thoughts.

I know there's a part of me that doesn't want to move on. There's a part of me that doesn't want the panic attacks to stop. I don't know why. Maybe because I think I owe it to him.

Would he feel good about it, if he knew? Wherever he is in Spain, would he be smiling if he knew I was struggling to keep myself together on a plane because I miss him? Because I'm constantly so filled with hate and regret that nothing short of constant stimulation can pry my brain away from him?

I hope so. If nothing else comes from all this, I hope it makes him stupid and arrogant and smug.

But I'm trying to move past that kind of thinking. I'm trying to not only recognize when my thoughts are completely full of shit, but also do something about it.

In a weird way, I feel like everything about me is changing.

Yes, the sharp pain in my chest is still there. The guilt, the horror, the yearning - it all still exists. But it's a little duller now. It's easier to just not think about. And while Dr. Kenwar would probably like to take credit for that, I kind of think it might be thanks to Sierra.

Or Harold. Even Duncan.

It's just all such a complicated mess. I don't know whether to be happy or sad about any of this.

I'm improving. I'm healing. That's a good thing. A _great_ thing.

But what about him?

He might still be cooped up in a hospital somewhere, still treating third degree burns. I remember what was shown in the episode. He lost his hair. He lost parts of his face. The skin of his shoulder.

He doesn't get to just _heal_ and feel better.

So why should I deserve to?

I go back and forth and back and forth and back and forth.

In fact, that's basically the only thing I ever do, aside from text Sierra memes. (She's taught me about memes, by the way. I'm slowly growing more and more tech-savvy. I even put a queue on my blog for the time I'm going to spend at June's. _A queue.)_

I _am_ going to June's, by the way. I guess I should've mentioned that a lot earlier. It's easy to get off track when I haven't written in a long time like this.

June is my oldest and only sister. Like I said before, she's like twice my age. Thirty six, to be exact. Old enough to be my mom. She was already moved out of the house and into her husband's house by the time I was _born_.

As a result, I never exactly got the opportunity to be close to her. For that, I thank the high heavens, because I fucking hate her. She's…. Hm. I don't know how to even begin describing _June._

Imagine a six year old little girl with big ribbons in her hair, who thinks she's the cutest thing in the world. Imagine that this hypothetical little girl just _thrived_ off being told how cute she is, and will often do things like struggle with her shoelaces or bat her lashes in a vacant sort of way, because she's aware these actions make her appear "cute".

This act is incredibly transparent and incredibly annoying, but it's clear that her parents have raised her to think that acting like a needy child will get her absolutely everything she wants in life, and it's really not your job to go trying to undo years worth of head-fuckery, so you deal with her tantrums and her fake-sniffles and her "do you like my boowwwwws?"

Got a pretty solid mental picture? Good. Now just take that six year old little girl, and imagine that she's actually a thirty-six year old woman, and her name is June, and she's my sister.

Luckily, I only have to see her once in a blue moon. And since I've hardly seen her since before I went to Total Drama now, my parents wanted me to come stay the remainder of the summer with her, her creepy husband, and her weird daughter Effie who's nearly as old as I am despite being my niece.

So here I am. On my way to America. Whoopdie-freakin-do.

As much as it blows to have to see June again, I'm a little excited about the fact that she's got an awesome beach house. If there's one thing I miss about Wawanakwa, it's the constant beach access.

Sure, Effie will be there, but surely she can't fuck things up _too_ bad. Maybe she's less of a constant fuckup than I remember. Maybe she's grown into something semi-normal. She _was_ eleven last time I saw her.

But then again, this is a girl who's been raised by _June._ I shouldn't get too excited.

-ℋ

* * *

 **July 31st, 2011**

The only thing even vaguely exciting about being in America again is the lowered food quality.

Seriously, the shittier a food is, the more likely I am to fucking love it, and… I've never really considered the ethics of that before, but considering it now, it's pretty much a miracle I'm not fat.

Anyway. A whole lot more flies in America than does in Canada when it comes to food that might kill you. So I'm pretty much pigging out. And I'm gonna puke, probably.

"D'you have all this shit in Hawaii?" I asked, popping a piece of cheesy popcorn that tasted like styrofoam into my mouth.

My shitty laptop's speakers crackled when Sierra responded, her video lagging and glitching a bit under my sister's less-than-amazing internet connection, but still strong enough for me to make out the image of her sitting cross-legged in her room. "Yeah! I mean, most of it, I think. We're kind of off on our own little island over here, I mean, both literally and metaphorically, so, I don't know."

I laughed at that and wiped some kind of gross cheesy residue off my mouth. "Well. This crap is the only plus side of being here."

She groaned a little, flopping onto her back and sticking her feet up in the air, as she often does when exasperated. I don't know why she does that. It reminds me of an opossum playing dead.

"If your parents wanted you out of the house for a few weeks, why didn't they just send you to _me?"_

I gave a disgusted grunt and half considered mimicking her dead possum pose. _"Right?_ But I haven't seen precious _June_ since like… I don't know. Before Total Drama, probably."

"Really?" Sierra stopped going belly-up long enough to shoot the camera a surprised look about two seconds belated. "You haven't seen your older sister in like three years?"

I crumpled the bag off cheesey popcorn and strew it to the side, leaning in nearer to the webcam so that my face filled most of the picture. "Well, I was barely home for any of that time, and I hate my sister, sooooo -"

" _Awww Heather, that's so mean."_ A familiar apathetic voice sounded as the door to the guest bedroom creaked open, and there stood none other than the porcelain anime waifu herself - My sister June, holding an oversized basket of laundry.

She's barely aged a day in three years. She's still barely 5 feet tall, still has naturally pink and pouty little lips, still has the complexion of a perfect little Japanese doll. Forever youthful are those big, sweet eyes of my colour, but a smidgen browner, and therefore more welcoming. Even her facial features are a bit more rounded and pleasant than mine, which are jagged and pointed and unappealing. Her hair was done up in two top knots, making her appear straight out of some gross fanservicey anime.

June's only glaring physical flaw is that jagged front tooth of hers, which is irritating to look at in the same way that it's irritating to look at a perfectly tiled bathroom floor with one square turned the wrong way. That, and that she's a good bit heavier than I am, but sort of in an appealing way. The weight's in all the right areas.

"Ex-cuuuuseee me June, I'm _kind of_ on a call."

I hit mute on Sierra before she could start trying to talk to my sister, which I was sure she would do if I gave her the chance.

"You've been here five minutes! You haven't even greeted me since Jace got you from the airport!"

 _Jace._ i.e; her infuriatingly flirty entitled-ass husband. He's old and wrinkly and "accidentally" walked in on me in the shower once when I was fourteen.

She married him for money and nothing more, I'm sure, and because he constantly stimulates her need to feel adorable, but she does at least pretend to love him or something.

"Yeeeeah. Thanks for sending _Jace,_ by the way. You couldn't even come get me yourself?"

She sighed and balanced the laundry basket on her hip. "I really wish you'd try and warm up to him!"

I rolled my eyes and almost didn't dignify her with a response, glancing back at Sierra on the skype screen for a moment.

"In case you've forgotten who you're speaking to, I'm your sister. Heather. I don't _warm up_ to people." I saw Sierra objecting this out of the corner of my eye. "... Especially not gross, fetishing, aw - "

"Okay! I've heard enough!" She puffed out her cheeks and pouted her lips. I resisted an urge to puke on her. "I just wanted to tell you that I was going through some of the family stuff I have stored before you got here, and I found something of yours!"

I sat up a bit straighter. "Something of mine? Why would you even have something of mine? What is it?"

"Well," she readjusted the laundry again and smiled, singing the rest of her sentence to some off-key melody. "If you're too busy on your call, I guess I'll just forget about it~!"

Her sing-song voice trailed away as she walked out the door, leaving me to scramble to my feet off the bed and run after her. "Wait! Why do you have my stuff?"

She started giggling like a child and ran down the hall, and I chased her all the way to the closet downstairs, from which she produced a light pink leotard, a skirt, and a pair of bloch ballet shoes.

I blinked a few times before yanking them out of her hands. "These are mine? Why did you have them?"

"I don't know! I guess you left them here the last time you came to see me! You used to like dancing in the basement, remember?"

I did remember, suddenly. When they'd first moved into this house and the basement was totally empty, it was the perfect place for me to dance. The floor was perfect and wide and open, and everything felt so… private.

I stared down at the leotard and felt my face heat a bit. I'd completely forgotten how much I used to _love_ to dance.

I tried to remember why I ever stopped, and then remembered the obvious: Three years on Total Drama.

The same reason I didn't finish high school. The same reason I didn't do a _lot_ of things.

I stood in silence a moment longer as June's big squeaky smile grew another inch on either side.

"... Does your basement still…. Is there any clear space down there anymore?"

I looked up at her and jumped back when her overwhelming grin scared the piss out of me. She nodded ecstatically. "Mhm! Mhm!"

I folded the outfit into my chest and fought a smile for a few more seconds. "Uh… Thanks, June. I'm just gonna… go now…"

"AWWW YOU'RE WELCOME HEATHER-BEATHER!" She reached forward and tried to hug me, which I narrowly escaped.

"NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. AND DON'T INTERRUPT ME AGAIN."

I ran back down the hall and turned into the bathroom. I looked over the leotard and considered actually putting it on for a while, but eventually opted to just tie on the shoes before sneaking my way downstairs.

The basement was certainly not completely empty anymore, but there was still plenty of space for me to move around. So I tried to dance for a while.

At first I fell a few times. But the more I tried, the more the movements and the muscle memories started to come to me. The feeling of release started to wash over me again; the feeling of being tiny and graceful and beautiful. Missing was the light brushing of my hair against my waist as I moved, but I soon grew used to it falling back and forth across my shoulders instead.

I was clutzy and far from perfect, but it felt really, really nice… For maybe ten minutes.

Then I was interrupted by Effie lying across the stairs.

"You're still pretty good at that, Aunt Heath."

I lost my balance and toppled to the ground. "Effie? _Ugh!_ How long have you been crouching there?"

She shrugged and wiggled her nose, trying to scoot her big circular glasses back up to her face.

I sighed and picked myself up off the floor. "I'm not exactly in practice. I didn't expect to be _watched."_

"Oh." she said. And for a while, that was it. I looked down at my shoes and wondered how badly I was going to bruise from all that falling.

"Hey, Aunt Heath?"

"You… Don't need to call me your aunt. You're like, three years younger than me."

"Alright. If you say so, Aunt Heath, but, I was wondering…" She sat up and pressed her fingers together awkwardly.

Everything about her was awkward, really. Big chubby cheeks, big chubby legs, big chubby shoulders. Awkward bangs, awkward sideburns.

"Wondering what, Effie?" I asked, sounding dismissive. She twisted her mouth in a weird expression and dangled her feet off the stairs, making visible her big light-up sneakers.

"Maybe you could teach me ta' dance like that. I used to go to dance classes when I was younger, too."

"You took ballet?"

"Hip-hop."

"Not exactly the same thing, Effie."

Her big cheeks looked like they were constantly smushing her mouth.

"Oh. Okay. Then maybe I could teach _you_ how to dance like that."

I snickered. "You're going to teach me hip-hop?"

"Yeah. Why not."

"No offense, but…" I headed towards the stairs. "I think I'm good."

"You sure?" she asked, getting up herself. "I'm pretty much awesome at it…"

"Is that so?" I asked, sounding as completely uninterested as I could manage. She used her big chubby shoulder to keep me from going all the way up the stairs.

"Yeah! It is! Watch me!"

She moved past me and to the middle of the basement floor, where she continued to count herself off while I stood boredly on the stairs.

What followed surprisingly _actually_ resembled a hip-hop dance. Even so, I couldn't keep myself from laughing a couple of times.

She finished in a big pose, chest heaving and light-up sneakers still blinking a few moments longer.

"So? How about it?"

I snorted. "That was… Really _something,_ Effie."

"I told you, Aunt Heath! You should let me teach you!"

I pursed my lips together. "I'm… I think I want to keep practicing _ballet,_ Ef. You understand that, right?" I turned and started to head up the stairs again. Her sneakers clunked up right behind me.

"Wait! We could… We could do both! We could make up a dance that's like…. Hip-hop ballet! It'd be cool!"

I soared up into the hall and sputtered another laugh. "That sounds completely _awful."_

"Yeah! Let's do it!" I could nearly feel her breath on my neck. "I know how to, like remix and stuff! I could make us a song to do it to!"

I rolled my eyes and kept walking, but I wanted her off my trail before I reached my room. I did _not_ need her following me in there.

"Okay. Fine. Sure, Effie, we can choreograph a hip-hop-ballet dance. Just. Don't make the music too obnoxious."

I closed the door in her face and dropped to the floor, untying the uncomfortable ballet shoes and letting out a long breath.

This is going to be a long rest of the summer.

My eyes trailed up to my bed and I remembered suddenly that I'd totally abandoned Sierra. I spun the laptop around to apologize, but I found that she was actually still on the feed. I unmuted it and got her attention.

"Sierra? You're still on here?"

"What?" she asked, like I'd asked a stupid question. "I was waiting for you. Where've you been?"

"I'm…. I'm learning hip-hop dance, apparently."

-ℋ


	2. Part 2

**August 3rd, 2011**

So, obviously since I'm off on "vacation", I won't be seeing my therapist Dr. Kenwar for a while. I thought that'd probably be a dramatic thing and maybe cost my mom some money, but it turns out I'm not the very first client _ever_ to go on vacation. Who would've thought?

Kenwar's cool with the idea that we won't be seeing each other for about a month, but I think he could tell that I sorta wasn't. Before he wished me good luck in America, he told me that if I ever find myself wishing I could talk to him while I'm gone, to keep a list so that I'll remember everything I want to say when I get home.

Babyish as that was, I fully intended to do it. However… My days have been a lot less despair-filled than I assumed.

For a couple of days since I've arrived here, I've been struggling to apply a name or a reason to the haze of euphoria I've been experiencing. (Not to say that it's the sort of euphoria that druggie rock-stars sing about, but a song written by Enya, maybe.)

Usually I wouldn't question a good thing, but feelings of rich happiness are so scarce anymore that, much like the aforementioned druggie rock-stars, once I've felt it again, I can think of nothing but how to duplicate the experience.

It's weird, because everything about being here is totally annoying. The freezing guest room I'm sleeping in is annoying, having to sit together with everyone at dinner is annoying, Effie is super ultra mega annoying, and the fact that my lifeline to Sierra keeps being dropped by an awful wifi connection is… _Annoying._

But somehow despite all of that, I feel… happy. Like that genuine, low-maintenence happy that's just kind of a thrum in your chest.

Honestly, It feels something akin to nostalgia, like when you watch a show you used to like when you were little and it's complete shit now but you just can't hate it. I wondered if maybe, just maybe, it might have to do with seeing June again. (Hey, I didn't _think_ I missed June, but stranger things have happened.)

So I waited until I knew Jace and Effie had left the house before slowly creeping out of my room and into the sunlit hall. After dallying a bit in the kitchen and pretending to rummage through the fridge, I took a left turn into the living room to join June, careful to do so in a way that would imply it was totally by accident.

I failed to slip in undetected though, and her voice shattered my eardrums before my butt could even hit the seat.

" _Ii tenki desu ne!_ Whatchu need, baby sis?"

If I were a cat, all of my fur would've stuck up and my tail would've puffed out.

"You've never been to Japan, June," I said. Then I couldn't decide how to answer her question, so I said "You need better internet service. Pronto."

I slumped further into the armchair I'd chosen and let the over-stuffed cushion try to swallow me whole. June adjusted her position on the couch in just the opposite way, back straight and hands folded sweetly in her lap. She ignored my second comment because I had apparently injured her pride. "Just because I've never gotten to go there doesn't mean I can't speak our family's native tongue!"

"But you know, like, six phrases! Total!"

She pouted before sticking her hands out and counting silently on her fingers. She gave a puzzled look when she passed 10 and had no more to count. I guess the cute act never gets old.

"I know at least 11 I think!"

I sucked in a breath and rolled my eyes. "At least I've _been_ to Japan."

Her eyes shot open wide. "You _have!?_ When?"

"In Total Drama World - Ugh! You know what? Never mind. This was a sound experiment, but I definitely did not miss you!"

"H-Hey, wha? Heather!"

I hopped up from the armchair and went back to my room, June having brought me no greater feeling than a headache. In an attempt to lessen it I untied my hair and let it all fall gently to my shoulders. It's longer now than I thought it was - I guess I haven't noticed because I just tie it up every day.

I ran my fingers through it to try to pull out any knots and recognized a familiar thickness to it - It felt healthier and softer than it has since before it all got shaved. For a few moments I just kept running my fingers through it, grinning and enjoying the feeling between my fingers. It was like my old hair, almost. Not long enough, but the texture was there again, it wasn't coarse feeling anymore.

I pattered off to the bathroom down the hall again, deciding that I'd borrow June's flat iron and straighten it today. Whatever it is that's got me feeling so nice, it's even making my hair feel happier.

-ℋ

* * *

 **August 3rd, 2011**

I've figured it out!

I know I wrote earlier today already, but I had such a good time at the beach that I wanted to write about it before I went to bed! I'll try to be quick.

Jace returned from town with Effie in tow a few minutes after I finished writing my last entry, and June went right to work putting away groceries and then assembling sub sandwiches. I tried to take one from the counter once she finished it, but she shooed me away because the sandwiches were to be packed into a basket to take with us to the beach.

I stuck my tongue out. "You sure you wanna bring food near the water anyways?"

June made a face. "Why, do you get stomach aches or something?"

"... No. I meant like, because of the sharks and stuff."

June laughed. "The… _sharks?_ Sissy, there's… not any sharks in the water here."

Holy shit.

It was like someone had just hit me upside the head.

I was shocked. Entirely blindsided. I had completely forgotten that sharks were not common everyday obstacles that had to be dealt with in even the smallest bodies of water.

This water wasn't going to have any sharks in it.

I was completely mesmerized.

No way.

Effie started laughing and snorting behind me, sticking her chubby hand in front of my face and waving it. "You alright, Aunt Heath? This is like, the real ocean. Not like, a lake that Chris McLean stocked with shark bears."

I cracked a smile. And then I started laughing. How ridiculous! How… I don't even have a better word! _Ridiculous!_

"Come on Effie," I said, still trying to swallow down the last wave of laughter as I pulled her towards the hall. "Let's get our swimming stuff on."

"Alright!" she said, a little more enthusiastic now that I'd included her. "Hey, were there really bear-sharks?"

But that was a story for another time. I didn't want to think about Total Drama anymore. I wanted to go to a normal beach with normal water and normal inhabitants. I wanted to put on my new swimming suit and look hot as hell sunbathing, I wanted to hang out with the sexy guys and send my rejects to Effie.

And I did. I did all of that.

We stayed until it was getting dark and cold, until Effie was yawning and trying to coax me out of the water so we could go, but I was still floating serenely on my back, my hair spread into an opaque halo around my head. It was right then that it hit me what this feeling is, what it's been this whole time.

Summer.

The warmth, the happiness - it all bloomed not from anything concrete I'd seen or heard but from a feeling that seemed to rise and rise and rise from my core, enveloping me, a mystical steam out the top of my head-a feeling like a trance, a dream, a reverie.

 _Summer._

I haven't been allowed to enjoy my summer in… three years? Three different summers, Total Drama's taken from me.

Three different times it's robbed me this feeling, this euphoria.

Never again.

The eventual drive back to the house was quiet and perfect, and I decided that once I got here, I'd start that list for Dr. Kenwar. I know what I want it to be about, now.

 **A List Of Things Total Drama Stole From Me, I Am So Fucking Bitter  
(a work in progress)**

 **\- Approximately three million dollars**

 **\- Three feet of my hair**

 **\- Three years I could've spent dancing**

 **\- Three summers that I deserved to enjoy**

To be continued.

-ℋ


	3. Part 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I'm going to go ahead and give a warning for "implied/suggested incest", just in case you're uber sensitive, but nothing actually incestuous or inappropriate happens I promise. It's just a sarcastic joke & nothing romantic actually happens between the two. Even so, if that sounds squicky to you, proceed with caution. _-ℋ_

* * *

 **August 5th, 2011**

Wild horses couldn't pull me away from the beach today. Not after last night. Maybe not even ever again.

When I'm forced inside, I'm dancing.

Completely splitting my life between those two activities, I don't _ever_ have to spend any serious time with June. That's totally fantastic. However, it seems wild horses couldn't pull Effie from me, either. I can't seem to shake her.

If I'm dancing in the basement, she's there. Creeping on the stairs, hiding behind boxes. Making a fool of herself.

If I'm at the beach, even if I try my hardest to sneak out undetected, she's there too. I'm never alone more than five minutes. The moment she realizes I'm not home, she comes to find me, and she always succeeds.

" _Hey Aunt Heath! Did you know that your feet can sweat up to twenty liters of fluid a year?"_

Eugh.

Side note: Do boys in America have lower standards than boys in Canada? Cause despite the fact that I'm not looking so hot in my swimsuit at the moment, they're crawling on me like bugs. Even more suffocating than Effie.

I mean, seriously. I'd love to toot my own horn and say I'm looking smokin', but I'm really, really not. My hair has grown to a bit past my shoulders now and the sun is doing it some good, but aside from that… I've dropped a lot of weight in the past few months due to stress and I'm grossly pale and skeletal, plus all the times I've fallen while trying to dance in June's basement has left my legs totally covered in bruises.

Apparently black and blue chicken legs just screams _"sex me up"_ to Americans. I wonder what it screams to Spaniards.

… Nope nope nope! Let's not travel that road. What was I talking about a second ago?

Right. These skeevy American boys won't stop trying to get my attention. Today, it was this particular group of younger boys, who didn't seem to want to let up. I was laying out on a towel, trying to tan so I could fix that whole grossly-pale situation I just described, but as hard as I tried to block them out, they were always _there_ , in the corners of my peripheral vision, pointing at me, making gestures. Did they recognize me from Total Drama?

Did Total Drama even air in this country?

I flipped over so I didn't have to look at them, and found myself nose-to-nose with Effie. I screeched loud enough to have most of the beach crane their necks to see what just happened, expecting to see a crying child with a crab in their palm, or a young girl leaping ten feet away from a snake, and not me kicking sand into the face of a fifteen year old in scenester glasses.

" _EFFIE!_ Oh my _gawd_ you _cannot_ sneak up on me like that! - When the hell did you get here?"

"I-I was just sitting here watching you… I thought you knew I was here…"

" _Ugghhh!"_ I leaned back onto my hands and tried to regulate my _freaking_ heartbeat. Effie flashed a guilty smile. I shot a glare at her, sitting cross-legged before me in her bathing suit, but in the process couldn't help noting that she wasn't as horribly un-cute looking as she normally is.

It was apparent immediately that June was the one to pick that suit out. It was way too cute and form-flattering for Effie to have picked it, and there wasn't even a hint of neon-green on it. This made me grin a little bit, vague childhood memories of my older sister dancing around in my head.

June has spent her entire chubby life formulating fashion choices that will make a big girl look irresistible. It's pretty much her life's work. At least she has the decency to _try_ and pass that gift down to her daughter, even if her daughter is… you know. Effie.

It was a pale pink one piece that contrasted well against her darker skin, with cut outs on the sides that were cute, but looked like they'd leave her with some really weird-ass tan lines. And of course, her obnoxiously gigantic boobs always helped things. Not that I'm, like, jealous or anything.

I was, for once, not wearing the red suit I always wore on Total Drama, but aside from it's lilac colour, it was pretty much the same as the other one anyway. Nonetheless - game recognize game.

"Hey - You don't look half bad!"

She blinked. "Thanks Aunt Heath!"

"Why don't you put yourself to use and go distract those boys over there?" I said, returning to my position on my stomach and motioning towards the twerps. "They're driving me nuts. I don't even wanna go in the water 'cause they'll probably follow me…"

I waited for her retort, but it never came. When I looked up at her, her face had gone pale, and she was looking off towards the group I'd pointed out like they were literal ghosts.

"What? ... Oh _come on_ Effie, they're just _boys._ "

She started sweating, and not because of the sun. "No, um, they aren't. Or at least, uh, that one isn't." She bit her lip nervously. "Oh God, he saw me! Here he comes now…"

"Huh?" I spun around, my hair whipping around my head, and saw the most obnoxious one of the bunch indeed making his way towards us. He had a _my-family-has-enough-money-to-buy-your-family_ kind of look to him, but he wore it in a horribly ugly way. Far too pompous. Far too… fifteen. Why do these children think they've got a chance with a seventeen year old anyway?

"Who is that?" I asked in a whisper through my teeth, not wanting him to hear me.

" _My ex boyfriend!"_ she teeth-hissed back at me, to which I teeth-hissed back at her with a _"WHAT?",_ but at that point he was too close to us for her to answer me.

"Hey," said Rich-Boy.

"Hi Carter!" said Effie.

"Buh-bye then," said the only sane one there apparently, me.

"Aw, come on baby," said Rich-Boy Carter. When my fake puking noises didn't amuse him, he looked to Effie. "Who's your friend, Ef?"

"I'm not her friend -" I started, but got cut off by Effie.

"Yeah! She's my… girlfriend!"

 _WHAT?_

I only _thought_ the word, where as Rich-Boy Carter said it out loud.

"Uh-huh!" Effie nodded. "So you should really leave her alone and stop staring at her and stuff. _She's mine._ "

Rich-Boy Carter's emotional cycle went from shock and confusion to what can only be described as pure _delight_. The kind of delight that only skeevy fifteen year old boys who think they've just met lesbians can pull off. And then he shot like a rocket back towards his friends, yelling about it like it was the best news he'd ever heard.

My emotions transcended the need for words.

I shot Effie a look that roughly translated to _what the fucking hell was that._

"Oh my god!" she said, a pudgy hand flying to her face. "He didn't seem like he wanted me at _all,_ did he?"

" _Effie!"_ I screeched. "What the fuck!?"

"Oh!" she said, the guilty smile returning. "You're welcome."

" _The hell I am!"_ She managed to catch me in the final moments before my raised palm slammed down towards her.

"I-I solved your problem! Both of our problems!" Something about the way she held my wrist reminded me of something I didn't want to remember.

I blinked.

She kept talking.

"Now that those boys think you're a lesbian, they're going to stop trying to hit on you! A-And… Carter will think that I've got some cute out-of-country girlfriend! So he'll leave me alone too…"

"A-As if you even want him to leave you alone…" I muttered as I waited for the rest of that to process. And then it did, and a horrible grin stretched across my face. "H-Ha… Ha! I guess you're right, aren't you? A lie like that… will get everybody to leave me alone!"

Effie's face lit up a bit and she nodded quickly. "Yeah! And word will spread too! I'll bet you half the beach will know about it within the hour! You won't ever have to worry about being harassed here! So… I did good, right?"

I bit my lip in an attempt to keep composure, but the laughter started to break through anyway. "That's… that's just stupid enough to actually work…" I broke into hysterics and Effie followed closely after. That plan sounded like something I would've come up with a few years ago. It sounds straight out of one of my _Island_ strategy plans. No, actually, this put my laxative muffin outside Gwen's door to shame.

"You know, a few days ago, I would've sworn we couldn't possibly be related…" I choked out as my laughter came to a rest.

"But now?" she asked, and I very politely ignored the desperation.

"Now I'm starting to see it," I said, flashing a grin.

And I actually sort of am. After I finished having my fun at the beach, I asked Effie to come be my fake girlfriend at the arcade, too, and that went just as well. Us being able to avoid the skeeves meant I was free to do as I please. We played skeeball and air hockey and a couple of weird shooting games until we'd racked up enough tickets to get that rainbow bear she wanted from the prize section. (I just liked running around with a bunch of ticket strips in my hand and feeling like a millionaire.)

We did have to deal with a couple of dudes now and then, but every time we used Effie's lie it seemed to work even better. It started to get more complex, like a drop of dye in water spreading and growing. We said we met at a beauty competition where I took first place, and she simply _swept me off my feet_ with her incredible knowledge of disgusting and little-known facts.

I don't think Effie and I have ever gotten along as well as we did while we were making that lie up. Still in character, we left the arcade hand-in-hand, only separating when we had to climb into separate seats in the car. June was beyond pleased to see me and her daughter getting along.

"Awww, baby sis, how come you never got that close with _me?"_

"Ew," I said. "In case you've forgotten who you're speaking to, I'm your sister. Heather. I don't _get close_ to people."

I grinned at Sierra's phantom-voice in the back of my head insisting otherwise, like she had the other day. The grin was wiped immediately from my face, though, when I realized I left her hanging on a skype call again.

 _Shit._

I suck _so bad_ at friendship.

-ℋ

* * *

 **August 6th, 2011**

" _Please don't be mad at me."_

" _I'm not."_

Sierra is giving me a cold shoulder so intense that I have to keep myself wrapped in a blanket to keep from the frostbite.

" _Yes you are, it's obvious. I told you it was an accident that I left you on the line again. Things are just hectic and plans are always changing last second, you know?"_

" _I know. I already told you that it's fine."_

The pixely me on the screen's expression flattened a few seconds after my real one did. _"What are you being like that for?"_

She gave a half-hearted laugh, but not a Sierra laugh. _"Like what? I'm being normal."_

" _No you aren't. You're mad at me and you're just saying that it's fine to guilt me."_

Her own expression fell then, and she idly twirled a curly lock of purple hair around her finger. She picked that up from me. I twirl my hair when I'm being passive agressive. My eyes narrowed.

" _Why would I do that?"_ She kept wrapping that strand of hair until it started to cut the blood off in her finger. _"If you think I'd do something like that… Maybe that says more about you than me, Heather."_

Ouch.

That stung throughout my cheeks and down to my throat. I swallowed down the horrible aftertaste with some help from a bottle of disgustingly unhealthy American soda. Afterwards, I thought I was okay to speak, but my words still came out a bit choked.

" _That's way harsh."_

Her expression flickered.

" _... Sorry. That was mean. I didn't really mean that."_

That sounded a bit more like the Sierra I know. I even smiled a little. She glanced up and shook her head. I realized it was my turn to speak.

" _I didn't mean to leave you hanging, either. I really did just forget. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to, like, hurt your feelings or make you feel unimportant or anything."_

Saying it felt kind of like playing a part in a play. Those weren't the kinds of words that I say. But for Sierra, at least I was willing to try saying them. I took another drink of sugar-acid. She didn't say anything, so I figured she wanted me to talk some more.

" _You're, um… really important to me. Like, I'm not totally sure what kind of place I'd be in right now if it weren't for you being so… uh, you know, generous, towards me. I might not even still be - "_

" _Heather."_

" _Uh… yeah?"_

" _You've really, really changed a lot since everything happened."_

My throat stung again. I looked up towards the camera doltishly, nodding; unsure whether I should feel insecure or proud. Did she mean that I'd changed in a bad way…? But everyone always told me I should be more emotionally open, or… whatever…

She interrupted my thoughts before I could make a ruling.

" _Is that, uh… because of me?"_

I blinked a few more times, processing.

" _O-Of course! Yeah, I mean. Duh."_

She grinned down at her feet, her finger twirling counter-clockwise until it was free. I expected her to give me an explanation of some kind, but instead she changed the subject.

" _When you get back home, I'm coming back to your town to see you and Cody again, kay?"_

Just like that, best friends again. I cast aside the blanket, feeling warmer now, and rocked on my knees. _"What, growing tired of the hut?"_

She cocked her head and stared at me, confused.

I clicked my tongue. _"Oh! I mean like, the one you live in. Not the pizza hut."_

She burst into giggles, and so did I, and things started to feel okay. _"Well… It's gonna break my mom's heart, but I'm thinking about looking at apartments around there. I mean… the two most important people in my life are there. Not to mention most of the other people that my whole job revolves around. Flying back and forth all the time… it's silly."_

Looking at apartments..? Seriously? I wasn't sure whether to get excited or start feeling shitty that I didn't have the emotional nor financial stability to be thinking of moving out of _my_ parents' house. In fact, I'm still letting them send me off on shitty vacations to my sister's house.

" _You mean you might actually move closer to us…?"_

" _That's the plan! Besides…"_ She leaned back suddenly, arms folded behind her head. _"You need me."_

I opened my mouth to rebuttal, but found I didn't have one.

-ℋ


	4. Part 4

**Author's note:  
Yeah. I know. It's been a year and a half. Golly.  
Thank you to everyone who is still here & reading.  
**

* * *

 **August 8th, 2011**

I noticed a family portrait hanging in the hallway of June's house and it got me thinking.

Effie looked about seven, still in a bright neon green crouching in front of her parents. June and Jace looked about a decade younger, dressed pretty stylishly and leaning into one another. Together, they just looked so _functional,_ like a photo of a real life family that I don't know - and neither of them looked all that much older than me.

It caused me to remember again that when my sister June was _my age_ , she had _already met_ her husband-to-be, and would soon be engaged to marry him on a sunny beach in Florida. That means that she was _already seeing him_ at the time that I was _born_ \- which is a notion that always seriously messes with me.

How is it possible that this _guy,_ this random skeevy _stranger_ has practically been part of my family for longer than I have? It's always been so strange and uncomfortable, feeling like an uninvited guest in my own family. You'd think I was a step child born out of wedlock. All the time when I'm forced to interact with my family at large events, I see aunts and uncles and grandparents squint at me, like "Oh, right, I totally forgot that one existed."

Happens all the time.

The Suoh siblings: Damien, Duke and June. The doctor, the lawyer and the rich housewife! I'm a break in a perfect trio. When they take family pictures, they always take one with me, and one without me, just those three.

… And you know what, it never really bugged me, because I didn't want to be in their stupid picture anyway, but now that I write it out like that I'm kind of ticked off. What the fuck!

I can tell you one thing: I would never do this to my child. I won't be a damn thing like my parents.

My daughter will have no siblings. I won't ever force her to feel like she's in a competition for my attention, or like she's a nuisance in her own home.

I'll give her the freedom to be whoever she is, and I won't ever tell her what to wear or how to act. I won't place restricting expectations on her to be a carbon-copy of me. I'll do my best to understand her, and to learn everything I need to know to connect with her about the things she likes.

My mom wouldn't have let me wear that bright ass green shirt - if she were taking a photo with me in the first place, which she wouldn't. She'd probably make me match with her. An exact copy of her own outfit.

…

I guess, as far as motherhood goes, I kind of hope I turn out like my _sister._

Disgusting.

-ℋ

* * *

 **August 9th, 2011**

"I'm glad you treat Effie better than you treat me."

June was halfway through a bowl of cereal when I decided to be casually mean.

She stopped chewing, the end of the spoon sticking dumbly out of her mouth.

"It speaks," she finally said when she'd swallowed. I rolled my eyes. It annoyed me when June seemed like a new, shiny, grown up June, but it annoyed me even worse when she acted like herself at 25.

She returned her spoon to the half-empty bowl and adjusted her headband, like she was adjusting her attitude right along with it. Her wide June smile reemerged. "I don't think I was ever too bad to you, sis! You've never wanted to be my friend, you know? But I wanted to be your friend, always!"

My hair was wet from a shower, and I was wearing a solid-colored sundress thrown on in an impatient hurry. I pulled out a tall chair and slunk into it. "Maybe if you hadn't tried so damn hard to alienate me, friendship would've seemed feasible."

June closed her eyes. Her voice stayed bubbly. "You can't blame me for the age difference, sissy. I know that you do - you think it's me and Duke and Dames's fault that we're so much older than you, but it's not. We had no more control over that than you did."

"I'm not a dumbass."

June started eating her cereal again. She was wearing a polka-dot mini dress. It was outrageously _June._ I reached across the table and took her bowl, then started eating from it myself.

"You three were the worst siblings in the world. You didn't even treat me like a real sister. You took two different photos: One that included me, and one with only the _real_ siblings." That'd been driving me absolutely nuts since yesterday. "That's why I never loved you when I was little. And it's why I'm never, ever going to love you now. You are just another stupid, irrelevant person. You aren't anything to do with me at all."

"That's enough." June's voice hardened, and she sounded kind of like my mom. Our mom.

I took another bite of her cereal.

"I don't think it's enough," I said. "I think it barely scratches the surface of what I should be saying to you. Did you like it better when I didn't speak, June?"

She rolled her eyes. "You are still the same vindictive, ugly brat you've always been."

I know that this is, like, predictively _me,_ but the word that stung was "ugly". I despise the fact that I flinched.

"Don't fucking act like you know me, June. You don't know me. _Effie_ knows me more than you do! At least _she_ watched my show! At least _she_ actually tries to have a relationship with me!"

Jace walked into the dining room, so we both silenced. It was just like when we were younger, the way we'd freeze mid argument when Mom got home. Go back to acting like perfectly lovely sisters until she left.

She and Jace had a short conversation about Effie starting school next week, then he left again, and the tension returned. June tried to take her bowl back again, so I smacked it and let the milk run all over the table. "Seriously!? _Seriously."_

June sighed and went to grab a towel. I crossed my arms and watched her clean it. While wiping, she said, "I'm glad that _you_ treat Effie better than you treat _me,_ too. So let's just agree to those terms, then, sissy."

"Woah, milk explosion," said Effie as she walked in from the hallway, newly out of the shower as well. "You used all the hot water, Heath, that wasn't very loving of you."

I cracked a smile. "Well, I assumed you were going to join me, but you were a no show. I wasted water waiting on you."

Effie snorted and cracked up. "Sorry, babe, overslept I guess!"

"I _really_ don't get your little… _roleplay_ thing," June said, a twinge of disgust in her voice.

"It's important for a young girl to have a healthy, active imagination, Mom." Effie said. I laughed out loud.

"Sure," June said, "But do you have to pretend you're lesbians? Can't you pretend to be space pirates or something?"

"That will _hardly_ help Effie with her boyfriend problem," I teased.

" _Aunt Heath!"_ Effie yelped, then muttered: "Y-may om-may doesn't ow-knay at-thay I've ad-hay a oyfriend-bay!"

Was that… pig latin? Oh my _god._ I covered my face with my hands and laughed. "What was that, Effie? Something about your ex-boyfriend-The richy rich boy?"

"Carter?" June asked, dropping the soaking towel to face her daughter. "You and Carter were dating?"

"No!" Effie shouted, then shot me another look. I patted her on the shoulder on my way out of the room. In the hallway, I eyed the family portrait again.

I tried to imagine myself in the photo, with a husband and a daughter.

First, Alejandro was the husband, and then he wasn't, and then he was again.

-ℋ


End file.
